


New Alphabet

by AllumetteRouge (RedRaidingHood)



Series: What's my age again? [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, De-Aged! Jason, Gen, He's fourteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:28:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5729533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRaidingHood/pseuds/AllumetteRouge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim had hoped to have the manor (and Alfred’s cooking) for himself today. Only, there’s a fourteen-year-old Jason and a whole lot of trouble waiting for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention I wanted this to be a cute, mulitchapter fic without real plot so I could just write nice little family things when bored? Well, its not (yet). It developed a plot. Goddammit.

As Tim wasn’t a morning person, waking up was never easy. Today, he would just make a quick appearance downstairs to let Alfred know he was awake before heading to the cave. Bruce was meeting with Lucius, and with Dick and Damian still at the penthouse, this meant Tim had the cave for himself for once. The cave and the manor and Alfred’s cooking, and he would definitely take advantage of that.

Still in his pyjamas, he trudged down the hallway, almost running into Alfred on the stairs. “Good morning, Master Tim.”

“Morning.” Tim yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Say,” he started, not quite sure whether he was still half-asleep or if Alfred actually carried a shotgun. “Are you armed?”

The butler chuckled softly the same way he had when he’d suggested posing as Tim’s dad at Brentwood. “I would say so.”

“Okay.” He scratched his stomach, thinking on that. So Alfred was running around the manor with a shotgun. Okay, Tim could deal with that. It was too early to deal with further deduction, so he needed to ask. “Why?”

“It seems there has been some noise from one of the unused rooms and I was about to investigate its origins.”

“With a shotgun?”

“With a shotgun.” 

Alfred watched him patiently as Tim pieced all this together in his sleep-addled mind. Suddenly, he was wide awake and his body instinctively moved into a defensive stance. A quick glance down the hallway made sure they were alone and no one tried to attack them. “You think there’s someone in the house?”  
“I do not know, but I am of a mind to find out.”

Tim gave him short nod, turning on his heels. “I’m in. Let’s see who’s stupid enough to break into our home.”

He took point, listening for any noise along the way. It wasn’t until they had almost cleared the hallway with the master bedroom at its end when something clattered in the room at the far right. Carefully, Tim positioned himself at the door, Alfred at the other side, armed and ready.

Neither of them was prepared for what they found inside Jason’s old room, though. Inside was a boy, lanky, like he’d just had a proper growth-spurt, with nothing but one of the drapes around his hips. 

“What the…,” Tim sputtered.

“Pants, man. Pants would be a great start.” The kid glared at him before his gaze fell upon Alfred. “And then you can explain me who you are and what you’re doing here. - Crap, when was the last time you slept? You don’t look healthy, Alfie.” His anger was back on Tim in full force. “Okay, scratch pants,” he said, because the kid that nicked Batman’s tires was more pragmatic than anything. “You are telling me right now what you did to Alfred and then we’ll see how relieved you’ll be when the boss finally stops me from feeding you your teeth.”

Barking out a hysteric laugh, Tim leaned towards the butler, his eyes never leaving the kid. “You know, I might not remember correctly, what with being pretty young and all, but… that’s Jason, right?”

Alfred Pennyworth had been with the Batman since the start. Since before the start to be precise. He had been through many strange adventures and his resilience was legendary, yet the sight of this boy made him choke, and Tim bit his lip, regretting his crude inquiry. Alfred had loved that boy. The boy that died.  
And came back – No, that Jason hadn’t come back. That Jason had died. And was now standing between the old furniture, rummaging through what had been left of his things in search of pants. 

“You’re kidding, right?” Not caring for the sagging cloth, Jason pushed his hands on his hips, his eyes focused on every move Tim made. “How do you know me?”

“How old are you?” 

“Fourteen. Maybe. Now back to the important stuff, pretty boy. If you’re in any way responsible for what happened to Alfred, I’m gonna–”

– “Feed me my teeth, yes, I know. Been there, done that.” Waving the kid off, Tim tried to recall every instance of age regression he knew of. There was that time years back with Klarion, and of course both Kon and Bart had age-related issues, but Jason was neither clone nor speedster.

Beside him, Alfred leaned the shotgun against the doorframe, stepping inside the room without another word. He was in front of the kid in no time at all, hugging him as hard as his old body allowed.

If anything, Jason wasn’t reacting like Tim had expected. He wasn’t shocked or hesitant, he just wrapped his arms around the old man, burying his face in his shoulder with a smile. He kept his eyes on Tim, but didn’t move away when he asked, “Are you okay?”

And Alfred laughed in return, pushing Jason’s shoulders back to look at the boy. “Yes, Master Jason, I am. What about you?”

“Yeah, dunno. A little dizzy. Pants would be nice.” His smile soon turned into a frown. “But seriously, Alfie, you’re looking kinda old. Not to be rude or something, but you look like you’ve aged ten years over night.”

“Not quite a whole decade, I assure you. Now, let us see about some clothes.”

“What about him?” Jason’s frown deepened when he looked over Alfred’s shoulder. 

“I live here,” Tim protested. “Sometimes.”

“No you don’t. I don’t know you and you sure as heck ain’t living here. Because I’d know.”

Alfred was too unsettled to handle this situation, Tim decided, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “Could you go see if the horror brat has some clothes that fit him?”

To his credit, Alfred only hesitated a moment, giving him a nod and Jason a quick pat on the shoulder. “Of course, Master Tim. I’ll be right back.”

He let the butler pass before closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wood, his arms crossed. How did you tell the guy that hated you he had been de-aged? Or rather, how did you tell a maybe-fourteen-year-old he was actually an adult with a gun fetish and so much anger in him he’s constantly taking it out on his loved ones?

“Quit staring,” Jason sneered, a faint blush on his cheeks.

“I – I didn’t. Oh my God.” Tim slapped a hand over his eyes and laughed. That kid had been his hero for years. And now he was just a naked brat. Fun. “Oh, boy. Look, Alfred is indeed older than you remember him.”

The way Jason moved, the drape would fall from his hips pretty soon; he tensed up for a moment, but quickly loosened his muscles again, ready to fight. “I knew it!”

Throwing his hands in the air, Tim groaned. “It wasn’t me, okay? I wouldn’t even know how. – Hey, ever seen _Back to the Future_?”

Handling confusion tactics was obviously something Bruce had yet to teach this Jason. “Um… yeah. Why?”

“Time travel.” Tim pushed himself off the door, taking a quick step into the room which proved to be a mistake. Spooked, Jason’s foot got caught up as he stumbled back; he fell, effectively landing on his ass with a curse. He didn’t try to get away a second time when Tim crouched down in front of him with a smile that was only half smug.

“Oh, sure, laugh at me and lose that pretty face of yours, I dare you.”

“Time travel,” Tim pushed, opting to just sit down with Jason on the ground. As expected, the kid was having trouble coping. Feeling uncomfortable or insecure, the adult Jason resorted to violence and defiance, directing attention away from him; the younger Jason did much the same, only with more balls than confidence. “You’re smart, Jason. Look around this room - Is this where you went to bed last night? Think for a moment.”

“Dun wanna.” Because he had already pieced it together. He just didn’t like the picture it painted. 

Tim raised his arm slowly, making his intentions obvious as he put an arm around the kid’s shoulder. It was a surprise when Jason latched onto him, but it was a pleasant one. When he felt him shake, Tim squeezed the kid close and teased, “You’re pretty trusting.”

“I’m not dumb. Alfred called you ‘Master Tim’, that means either you kinda inherited him along with this place, or you’re somehow family.”

“Not just a friend of his?”

Jason snorted. “I know you rich cats, friends are ‘Misters’.”

“You are smart.” 

“Told you.”

The shivering finally stopped and Jason relaxed against him until Alfred opened the door. He jumped up almost immediately. “Thank fudge, clothes.” He didn’t realize the precarious situation until the drapes had already fallen on the floor.

Tim laughed. He couldn’t help it, and he knew he should feel bad about it, but there was Jason Peter Todd, standing buck-naked in front of him, looking back over his shoulder like an angry little tomato. Alfred had to put a hand on his shoulder to stop the kid from going for his throat this time, clothes or not.

 

To a certain extent, Tim was annoyed that Damian was still younger than Jason. And smaller. Which meant Alfred had actually gone to _his_ room in order to get clothes that fit the now fourteen-year-old. Well, ‘fit’ in the literally loosest of terms.

They had relocated to the kitchen where Alfred made them pancakes that Jason devoured with glee. As he often got sick when eating something more substantial than coffee, breakfast was hit-and-miss with Tim these days, though, and he opted for a much slower pace than the kid. Jason was already on his fifth pancake when he noticed Tim had not yet eaten his first.

“You on a diet or something?”

“No, I’m just–”

– “Preggers.” Jason grinned, syrup smeared on his cheek and another bite already on the way to his mouth.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tim laughed and Jason seemed so smug not the be the butt of the joke this time. 

He shoved the fork in his mouth, pushing the fruit bowl towards Tim. “C’mon, eat some. We want the baby healthy, don’t we?”

“Oh my God, you’re such a brat.”

“Ja, well, I aim to please.” And he just had to have learned _that_ sleazy look back on the streets. 

Laughing together felt good, felt _right_ , although both of them knew the situation was anything but. Even with Bruce’s arrival drawing near, Tim couldn’t bring himself to change the conversation to a more serious topic. Not with Jason actually happy and confident and Alfred smiling almost serenely.

“Hey, I need to put on some real clothes.” He stood from his chair, ignoring the kid’s snicker. “Be back in a bit.”

Tim wasn’t dreading this conversation so much as he was dreading not being able to see Bruce’s face. To not be physically there when he got the news. Still, the moment he came home, Bruce would see Jason. The younger one. Just one year before they had lost him. And Tim didn’t want Bruce to run into that situation unprepared. 

He stared at his cell where he had left it on the desk this morning. Bruce would want to know the how and why and Tim hated having nothing to tell his partner other than ‘Surprise! Your dead Robin is back’. He couldn’t even provide a solution, not even suggest how they should go about it, yet, but time was running out. Bruce would come home, and he needed to know before Jason jumped him.

Bruce answered the phone, telling Lucius this would just take a moment and Tim could hear him close a door. “All right, what is it?”

“Are you sitting? Because I think you should sit down for this.”

“Bad news?” And that was Batman, right there, growling in his ear.

Tim barked out a laugh. Batman might really not be the right reaction to this. “Yes and no. Kinda? Just tell me you’re sitting down, because I can’t think of a good excuse to tell your employees why their boss sits on the floor in the middle of the day. - Actually I can, but I don’t think it’s ethical to pay someone to play pregnant for you,” he added with a wary smile.

The reply he got was an irritated noise, but Tim knew him well enough to know he complied. If only to get him to spill.

“Jason’s home.”

“Is he injured?”

“Not really. He’s in the kitchen with Alfred and I think you can’t actually hurt yourself much by inhaling pancakes. Also, he’s fourteen.”

Had anyone else held onto the phone, it would have clattered to the office floor. But this was Batman. So all he did was breathe. 

Tim recognized the exercise, Bruce’s attempt to calm down. Funny how he didn’t think to question this information. Then again, he rarely questioned information coming from Tim. 

“He’s okay,” he assured Bruce. “Felt a bit dizzy earlier and confused of course, but he’s fine now. Happy with Alfred. He recognizes Alfred and he knows where he is. I also breached the topic of time travel.”

“You didn’t.” There was a certain quality in the tone of his voice, a warning of sorts; but Tim was over being intimidated by Batman for years now. 

“I did. He’s holding up great. Better than expected.”

“He’s strong.”

Tim smiled. That kid downstairs? That was Robin, his hero. “He’s the best.”

Bruce cleared his throat, fumbling with something that sounded suspiciously like his suitcase and keys. “Does he know what happened?”

Tim still shook his head although he couldn’t be seen over the phone. “I don’t think so. Bruce, I haven’t had the heart to ask him, yet. I want to… I want to wait until he’s met you. He might need you.”

“All right,” he exhaled audibly. “I’ll be home soon.”

After they hung up, Tim changed quickly, throwing on some slacks and one of Dick’s Gotham U sweaters before daring to get back downstairs.

Jason was helping Alfred with the dishes, animatedly chatting away. Watching them, Tim leaned in the doorway, thinking about the whole thing again. It wasn’t so much disturbing or annoying to have Jason here as it was unexpected. But if it was time travel…

Tim turned away from the kitchen abruptly, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling Babs’ number. “Hey, O, I need you to check on Jason right now.”

“Hello to you too, birdboy. What has he gotten himself into this time?”

Tim bit his lip. Babs would soon know anyway, but if this was time travel and there still was an adult Jason around, _that_ guy didn’t need to know just yet. 

“Found him,” Babs said, keystrokes audible in the background. “According to his signal, he’s in front of the safe house on the corner of Kane street. That’s curious.”

“What is?”

“According to his signal, he hasn’t moved in over ten hours.”

Tim glanced to the entrance where he already heard the ignition of a Porsche die. “Have BG check on him, I’ll call you back.”

“Tim, what’s–”

He hung up on her, opening the door before Bruce put his key in the lock. “Do I want to know how many investors Brucie has just stood up?”

“Where is he?”

“Still with Alfred.” Bruce pushed past him, eager to see his son, but Tim held him back. Tightening his grip on Bruce’s forearm, he kept him in the hall while he closed the door quietly. “Calm down, you’ll just spook him.” 

Bruce shot him an angry glare, but stopped trying to rush. “I need to see Jason. Right now.”

With a sigh, Tim crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I asked Oracle to check on the adult Jason - if there is one. Time travel dictates that there should be one, but if there isn’t, we have to look into more mystical explanations, because I don’t think hormonal imbalance accounts for the loss of almost ten years.”

When Bruce just kept staring, Tim sighed. “All right, we’ll go see him, but afterwards, I want you to contact Booster Gold and Zatanna, tell them to be on standby, just in case.”

This time, he got a reaction, but it wasn’t much; just a change in his partner’s gaze, the way he was looking at Tim. If anything, Bruce’s eyes showed betrayal. “You want him gone?”

“We’re not talking about this now.” Tim bit back his anger at that. They didn’t know anything, yet, so they had to prepare for everything. That’s what _Bruce_ had taught him, for fuck’s sake. 

“You–” the man caught himself. “I want to see my son.” He didn’t exactly storm the kitchen when Tim gave him his okay, but it was a close thing.

“Bossman.” Jason jumped upon seeing Bruce. He let his father hug him, almost crush him to his chest, returning the gesture and laughing a little startled. 

“Woah, slow down there, big guy. I… What’s wrong?” The kid sounded more insecure than he had the whole morning and Tim didn’t like it. He wanted to protect him, wanted him to feel safe. That was his dad, the man who had been almost driven insane by his death. 

Catching Jason’s gaze over Bruce’s shoulder, he pushed all that down. Jason was happy, startled but more amused than upset.

“Nothing,” Bruce said. “Everything’s all right, Jay. Everything is fine.”

If Tim hadn’t actively worked for exactly this smile ever since the start of his career, he might have been a little jealous as Bruce only had eyes for his son. Thus, he didn’t feel bad leaving the kitchen to  make another phone call. “What do you have for me, O?”

“Jason’s gear, that’s what I have for you.” Barbara sounded amused, already drawing her own conclusions. “Say, what reason is there for a trained vigilante to leave his gear outside his safe house. Alongside his clothes. And we’re talking every piece you’d normally wear on your body. Did you know Jason has Wonder Woman boxers?”

Tim snorted. “That’s common knowledge. Anything on traffic cams or some other way to know how those clothes landed there?”

“How about we answer my questions first, kiddo.”

“He didn’t implode, if that’s what you’re asking.” Barbara laughed, but Tim knew her long enough to know her patience was running a little thin. “I don’t have the details, that’s what I need your help for, but for the situation at hand… Would you believe me if I told you he’s fourteen right now?”

“He’s not.”

“Sure is.”

His friend fell silent, thinking it over. “And you want my help in turning him back. From sweet summer child to the Red Hood.”

“First, I want to know what happened to him, then I’ll decide how to proceed.”  
She contemplated his words, a soft hum escaping her. “ _You_ decide, huh. - I want to see him.”

Tim cringed. “Babs, no.”

“Tim.”

“I don’t - Barb, we don’t even know how long he’ll stay that way or if he’ll remember anything that happens now when he’s back to normal. I’m not - I’m not comfortable with showing him off to the extended family like some pet.” He chuckled humourlessly. “He’s going to kill me when he’s older again.”

Barbara made him wait a little. “I’m getting footage and anything one could consider blackmail.”

“I can’t say ‘no’, can I?”

“You could try.”

Sighing, Tim pushed a hand in the pocket of his pants. “All right. But only because he’d never hurt you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Feel free to comment and/or criticize, or drop me a line on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com) if you have time <3


	2. Chapter 2

Tim went down to the cave, after his conversation with Barbara; immersing himself in the work he had originally planned for this morning. Laying under his Corvette, he only noticed the kid when Jason crawled beside him on his stomach.

“Hi.”

“If you steal my tires, I’ll spank you.”

Jason buried his smile in his arms but otherwise kept silent. The protective urge returning, Tim put the tool on the ground and rolled his head to face him. “You okay?”

“How old are you?” Jason deflected.

“Nineteen.”

“My age then.”

Letting a smile settle on his lips, Tim poked the kid’s side. “Not really.”

He got a grin in return while Jason reached out to hold Tim’s wrist before he could prod him again. “To _ma_ to, toma _to_.”

“You’re not helping Alfred with our lunch?”

Jason exhaled through his teeth, the tiny whistle more show of teenage exasperation than a reply. “I’m being smothered and nobody tells me why.”

“Yet you think I’d squeal.”

“Dunno, I don’t really know you.”

“Can I have my hand back?”

The kid jerked, his face turning bright red when he he go of Tim’s wrist. Newly freed, Tim shuffled out from under the car, nodding in the direction where Bruce was sitting on the conference table.

“What the– Ouch!”

“You okay down there?” The noise hadn’t been his new exhaust pipe clattering on the floor, so Tim wasn’t too concerned. “If you wreck this lady, you’re gonna repair her.”

When he crawled out, Jason looked a whole lot more interested than rebuked. “You serious?”

Which… Tim kinda got. He gave his car a loving pat, careful not to smudge the polish. From his place at the table, Bruce was watching them, trying to be inconspicuous, but Tim knew exactly how much Jason meant to his partner. Taking pity on the man, he nudged the kid. “Have you talked to him?”

Jason stuck out his tongue. “Too much and too little.”

“As in you talked but didn’t really say anything.” Yeah, Tim’s dad had been great at that, too.

“But, um… He said he loves me and I’m his son,” His ears were burning red and his face split into a genuine grin that made it through the next words by sheer force. “But he’s got another one. I - I have a brother.”

“His name is Damian.”

“Is he…”

“Nice?” Tim almost laughed. “He’s twelve, picks his nose like a champ and pouts the whole day. You’ll love him.”

Leaning back on his hands, Jason beamed. “He’s a little snot, isn’t he?”

“There you go. Loving him already.” The wrench he had used was still lying under the Corvette and Tim was seriously contemplating leaving it there as he had strained the stitches in his side already more than he had intended. Sometimes there just were thugs knowing how to use knifes. Not many and none as good as Jason, but still. “Hey, kid, get me that wrench, will you?”

Jason pursed his lips. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Get it yourself.”

Tim groaned, rolling back onto his stomach to get the infernal tool. “And here I was starting to think you’re cute.”

When he’d retrieved the wrench, Jason was already on his feet, bounding over to the table where Alfred served sandwiches. Tim pushed his hair back, smelling the dirt and oil on his fingers. He needed a shower, but not before looking his partner dead in the eye and mouth “Rude.”

Bruce was unapologetic, determined to have as much time with Jason as the kid would let him, no matter how cheap his tactics were. Baiting a kid with food. Not very original.

Honestly, Tim didn’t mind; he went to put his tools away, leaving Bruce and Alfred to deal with Jason for the time being. A shower, first, then he would need to make a few calls.

 

Barbara picked up on the first ring, leaving Tim no time to fully pull the sweater over his head. “Please tell me he did something embarrassing.”

“He hit his head on my car.”

“Nah.”

“She’s okay, thanks for asking.” Wrangling the sweater on, Tim let himself fall on his bed. “Any news of how Jason’s gear got in front of the safe house?”

“Not much. It’s a safe house. It’s not meant to be easily accessible.” Barbara told someone to come over for a second before addressing him again. “Look, we might be lucky, Batgirl seems to know what could have happened. Or at least she’s waving her hands like she has a seizure. Do you have a seizure, Stephanie?”

“Har-dee-har.”

Tim bit his lip against the smile that forced its way on his face. That girl would be the death of him some day, and she didn’t even try.

“So, hey, boy wonder, guess who can magically de-age people,” she said, closer now to Babs’ microphone.

“Klarion…dun dun dun…the witch boy.” When only silence answered him, he felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“You did not.”

“Oh my God,” Barbara laughed, but Steph’s voice was more irritated.

“How the heck did you know? One time I think I know more than you and the supercomputer you have for a brain still on-ups me.”

“We shouldn’t disregard other magic users,” Barbara added. “But we all agree that Klarion already did something like this. Now, birdboy, how do you assess the situation, should we get Zatanna in on the picture?”

Rolling on his bed, Tim pulled the covers around him. Bruce was happy right now, and so was Alfred. The kid, Jason, seemed to be fine, too; so really, was there even any need for things to change? “I…” Would it hurt anyone? “I think…” While they were happy, they were also unaware of what had happened. Knowing might change nothing, but in Tim’s experience, things were never what they seemed and nothing good ever came without a price. “Send me the material you have, I’ll look it over myself. Then I’ll decide.”

When they’d hung up, he kept lying under the blankets for a bit, just enjoying the quiet and giving himself another moment to think. Him liking the kid actually made things more difficult, more personal. None of the bats were good with personal.

Sighing, he knew it was time for the one call he was putting off. The phone ran once, twice; he was pretty sure it would go to the mailbox and usually, Tim would have only been mildly irritated, but today he needed the brat to pick up.

“Why not call Grayson?”

“Because he’s compromised.”

“…Okay, start from the beginning.”

“Sure. Hello Damian, how are you? Did you have fun at school today?” He actually found himself smiling at the irritated tone in the brat’s voice.

“You are not funny, Drake, stop trying.”

“So, how much do you know about what happened this morning?” And because Damian wasn’t above using his own tricks on Tim, he added, “Other than, you know, what they say on the news. Like, what happened here at the manor.”

“Todd literally got dumber.” As in losing whatever he had learned over the last decade. “And father seems delighted, which makes dumb Todd something positive, I assume.”

With every word it became clearer he was talking to Robin rather than Damian - even if that only meant the kid was putting up a front, acting calm and aloof, not a whole other personality like his father.

Leaving Damian’s feeling for Dick to handle, Tim breached the topic they needed to discuss. “Do you understand the position he’s in? He and Alfred and Dick. They’ve all known that kid. You and I? We haven’t. That gives us a better vantage point to decide.”

“Decide what?”

“What to do with him, of course.” Tim threw the blanket off, staring at the ceiling and ignoring the noise downstairs. The three of them had come up from the cave - Or at least Jason and Alfred, according to the clattering of dishes and the unmistakable tone of a fourteen-year-old. “Like… do we even try to get him back to normal? Isn’t it better for everyone if he stays a kid, grows up a second time to become something better.”

Damian snorted. “Sure, because you’re a great judge of what ‘better’ entails.”

The thing about Damian was his age, really. Even though he was only twelve, Tim could talk to him on certain topics on a equal basis. Which was nice, though he would never admit it. “So what do you propose?”  
“I don’t.”

Raising his phone to his face, Tim blinked at the device. The picture of Grumpy Cat stared back at him and the timer beneath kept counting. He very deliberately put it back to his ear. “What?”

There was a tiny growl before Damian hung up on him, leaving Tim to stare at his phone again. “Rude.”

After putting on some pants, Tim trudged down the stairs, only to find Jason sitting on the last steps with a newspaper in front of him and a pen between his lips. “Another word for ‘detective’.”

“Gumshoe.”

“Nope,” Jason looked up to meet his eyes, twirling the pen between his fingers. “Four letters.” The kid looked expectantly, not saying anything else until Tim sat down. “Look, here, I’ll give you a hint.” He pushed the crossword over, pointing to a crudely drawn dick at the margin.

“Seriously.”

Jason chuckled. “Oh, c’mon.”

“You’ve drawn a penis. How novel.”

The kid spluttered, a hand pressed firmly against his mouth, bravely trying to keep his laughter at a sensible volume. “You said ‘penis’!”

“It’s a completely normal word,” Tim protested. “Drawing one is fine but saying ‘penis’ is funny? That’s stupid.”

This time, Jason didn’t even try to hold his laugh back, roaring and holding his stomach. Tim bit his lip, feeling his cheeks heat up. That wasn’t funny. It wasn’t. “Oh, will you shut up? Why are you laughing? There’s nothing to laugh about.”

“You said ‘penis’.”

“Jason.”

“’Penis’” The kid breathed, fighting for air.

“It’s a normal word, it’s not funny.”

“Sure is!”

“Penis.”

Bowing over his knees, Jason wheezed. “Please stop. Can’t. Breathe.”

“Penis,” he repeated smugly. “Penispenispenispe–” When he noticed the figure on the other end of the hall, Tim stopped himself abruptly. – “Oh, shit.”

Bruce just raised an eyebrow. _How old are you, again,_ was left unsaid, and Tim resigned himself to duck his head and blush a shade darker.

Still a little out of breath, Jason smiled. “Hey, dad.”

And that… Tim pulled out his phone, really only planning to play around so he wouldn’t have to look Bruce in the eye. The man certainly tried to push the giddy feeling down he had to have at those words. But Tim also had a text message.

“Hello, Jay.” Bruce’s tone was so fond, happy. Everything he should be.

The kid gave him a shit-eating grin in return, holding the paper out. “Four across, ‘another word for detective’.”

“Dick.”

Both, Tim and Jason chuckled, neither able to stop themselves. Stemming his hands on his hips, Bruce just shook his head at Tim. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yet you love us,” Jason countered.

While he stood, Tim swiped the screen of his phone. The message was from Damian, demanding to meet him at the safe house on Kane street. He quickly typed out a reply and stood. “All right, gotta go. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kiddo.”

Frowning, Jason pursed his lips. “And how should I know what you wouldn’t do? I don’t know you.”

Tim’s mouth fell open, and for a moment he felt the anger directed towards him. Didn’t matter, he had more important things to do.

 

The apartment was a mess. Not just the usual mess, but a war zone; TV on the floor with a cracked screen, the sofa upturned and the cushions thrown all over the room like gutted bodies. Few things were still standing, giving Tim reason enough to assume a fight had happened. Alert, he went to the kitchen where Damian sat on the table with a cat on his lap that looked like it had been in the fight itself; stubs for ears, an eye missing and a gaze that clearly read, _You should see the other one._

“Any idea what happened here?” He brushed flour off a chair before sitting down and taking a quick look around the chaos that was Jason’s kitchen.

Damian shrugged. “I’d say hurricane, but that’s not very likely.”

“So an attack.”

“Possible.” Setting the cat on the table, Damian stood, nodding towards the door where another cat had appeared. It was a cute Exotic Shorthair and Tim was back on his feet in a second.

“Can you get Pepper?” The kid climbed on his chair to reach a cupboard. “I don’t want to just leave them food here, heaven knows Pepper wouldn’t get any. Oh, and don’t touch Salt.”

Tim crouched down, raising his hand towards the cat who immediately rubbed against him. “Which one is Salt?”

“The one that bites.” When he got back to the table with cat food, Damian frowned. Tim had lifted the cat to his shoulder, where it crawled around his neck like an expansive collar. “That one. – I’m getting Pepper,” he said, stomping out of the kitchen.

“Looks like we’re going to feed you guys,” Tim told the two cats, content with the furball nosing his hair while he snooped around the kitchen. Whatever had happened here hadn’t been an isolated instance. The fight must have dragged through the kitchen to the living room, where things looked more violent. Jason had been preparing food if the flour and the sugar on the counter were anything to go by. Usually, his kitchen was immaculate; now Tim found stains of a milk bottle next to the sugar and freshly used towels in the trash. Things looked thrown around here, but in the living room, things were destroyed. Literally gutted. That’s were the situation escalated.

When Damian came back, he was cradling a third cat, looking like a black version of Salt.

“So that’s Pepper?”

“Yes, and the Persian on the table is Chainsaw.”

“Because she puts her claws into everything.”

“Because _she fought one_ ,” Damian snarled, setting Pepper on the table, too.  
Tim shook his head. Count on Jason to get a cat that fought a chainsaw. While Damian opened the cans, Salt took a leap from Tim’s shoulder, joining her sisters.

“You know, Jason will kill us for letting them on the table.”

The kid waved him off. “He wouldn’t. He’s preparing food on the counter and eats in the living room. That table is for the cats.”

Apparently, Tim had to re-evaluate the relationship those two had. Damian knew exactly where everything was, navigated the apartment like it was his own. “You come here often?”

“Are we playing 20-questions?”

After reassuring themselves that the cats were comfortable and Pepper got enough food, the two pushed the sofa in the living room upright again. While Tim sat, Damian got a pad and books from the window sill and stuffed them in his school bag. His back still turned to Tim, he stopped before zipping it though. “How is he?”

“Who?”

“Father.”

“Oh.” Closing his eyes, Tim let his head rest on the couch. “He’s fine. Happy, really.”

“So he doesn’t want him back.” There was an edge to Damian’s voice; the same he got every time they fought and Tim hit a nerve.

“He’s not the one to decide that.” The kid turned swiftly, staring at him like someone peed in his cereal. Tim just shrugged. “I told you, he’s compromised. Unequipped to make a decision like this.”

“And you still think you are?” Damian frowned.

“I don’t know, yet. I’m still looking into it. We can’t move in any direction without knowing what happened and what repercussions we might face.”

“You’re stupid.”

Tim barked out a laugh. “Do you want him back? The adult Jason.”

The struggle was obvious, contorting his face into an ugly grimace. Damian was unable to meet his eye. “I didn’t listen when Grayson told me the details, but doesn’t this defeat the whole reason of your existence?”

“What?”

“You know. You came into the picture because Batman needed a Robin, now he has a Robin. - Two even - So if him being what father lost means you are no longer needed, then Todd can stay that way, for all I care.” Zipping his bag close, Damian stood. Too stunned to do more than catch the key he was thrown, Tim let the kid pass him on his way to the door. “Lock up behind you,” Damian said before leaving.

Salt nudged his leg, rubbing her pudgy face on his jeans. While blinking down at her, Tim finally found the words he was looking for. “Wow, rude.” The cat licked her nose when he picked her up, talking to her as if she would answer. “He asked me to come here, you know. Stupid horror brat is just cutting his losses. Wanna bet he’s not going to show up to meet Jay?”

Cradling Salt, Tim looked around the room a second time. Damian had asked him to come, but surely not to watch him feed the cats. And while he might have chickened out of giving his opinion on the giant de-aged elephant in the room again, he did open up enough for Tim to deduce some parts of his relationship with the adult Jason. He had a key, he knew his way around the place, he fed the cats and, if Tim wasn’t mistaken, he did his homework here. To some degree, adult Jason had been important to Damian, no matter what he decided to say for his father’s sake.

 

When Tim came home, he expected Bruce to be already preparing for patrol, eating a light snack, warming up, not snoring loudly on the couch with Jason across his lap.

“How?” He settled in one of the armchairs.

“You don’t know? It’s easy, you just lay on him and pretend to sleep. Since the big guy won’t wanna wake you, he’ll just catch a few z’s.”

Tim hummed. He never thought of intruding on Bruce’s personal space like that. Still, it seemed to work.

The TV was quietly droning on, with Jason zapping through the channels. Only this morning, he had woken up in the wrong body. Younger, without the scars that would come from a crowbar and everything after that. The clothes hung loosely on the teenager, his eyes glued to the screen and his hand on Bruce’s arm across his chest. Tim smiled at them, shaking his head softly. “Jay, what do you remember?”

“You’re checking if I remember being an adult.”

“Yeah, well.” This conversation could go either way, good or bad, but Tim couldn’t go at it like Damian, couldn’t prioritize Bruce’s happiness even if that had been his reason to force a new Robin.

“I remember the season finale of _Kim Possible_.”

“The last episode aired some time around 2007.”

“Oh, um.” Adjusting Bruce’s arm, Jason snuggled closer. “What about _Elementary_? I also remember Watson’s stepfather writing a crime novel based on her and Sherlock.”

Tim pulled his legs under him. “That’s pretty recent. Second last episode, I think. What about technology, do you have problems with anything?”

With a yawn, Jason turned back to the TV. “Nah, not really.”

“Oh great, but you don’t remember me? How about Bruce, is he different from how you remember him?”

“To be honest, not really… I - I don’t know what happened, but B… He’s just B, isn’t he? Only older.”

Jason wouldn’t look at him, only tightened his grip on Bruce. Sighing, Tim sank back in the cushions and resigned himself to lose a few braincells watching the horrible cooking show. When the kid finally spoke up again, he had almost dozed off.

“You think he’s going to let me out? At night, y’know.”

And that… was actually a very good question.

“I don’t know.”

Things felt awkward, so they sat in silence, the program dragging on. Eventually, Tim bit his lip, contemplating the most diplomatic route to end this. “Give me the remote.”

“Huh, why?”

“I got the newest episode of _Elementary_ on the DVR.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m totally not freaking ‘cause of a presentation I have to give tomorrow.  
> Also, the conversation Tim and Jay have in the middle of this? I had one just like that with one of my kids recently, which just proves fourteen-year-olds are ridiculous.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Feel free to comment and/or criticize, or drop me a line on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com) if you have time <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s all thank [Alexicon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexicon/profile) for sharing her pen & paper experiences with me; I might not have wirtten a full game, but I still think Tim finally being able to play with his family is precious~

As Tim was a heavy sleeper, he only pushed his pillow over his head when he realized it was Steph storming his room the next morning.

“Where do you keep it?”

“What,” me mumbled into his mattress.

“Your stupid fantasy game book.”

Deciding it was worth turning on his back to watch her progress, Tim started his day. “None of my books are stupid. Probably.”

“Your face is stupid and I’ve brought you Jason’s panties.” She waved towards the door where a bright pink sports bag glared back at him. “You’re welcome,” Steph cooed before laying on his bed and propping her head on his stomach.

They were comfortable, neither moving and just existing in each other’s presence. It was nice. Familiar. With a sigh, Tim pulled a strand of her hair between his fingers. “So what did you look for, again?”

“You promised to show me your geeky role playing game. ‘Was looking for that handbook.”

Tim hummed. “Desk, top drawer.”

“You Mister Busy again or are you gonna play with me?”

“I play plenty with you.”

“But not _Dungeon King Timmy._ ”

“It’s _Warlocks and Warriors_.”

“I know, geekboy,” she snorted and rolled around to face him. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Dunno, why?”

“Your tummy sounds empty.”

“You’re an expert for stomach-sounds?”

Steph grinned slowly, reminding him why he fell in love with her all that time ago. “Indeed, I am. And this tummy here,” she poked his abs. “Has been denied the glory that is waffles in the morning.”

Her nails had been painted garishly green and she still made it work. With a smile, Tim draped an arm over his eyes. “I’ll get sick.”

“Nonsense!” Grabbing his hand, Steph pulled his upper body from the mattress.

Downstairs, Jason was already destroying a new batch of pancakes. He waved at them, pulling out the chair beside him.

“Good morning to you, too,” Tim said. “That’s Steph.”

“Hi, Steph. Cool nail polish.”

Beaming, she flopped down next to the kid. “You got taste.”

“Sure I do.”

“Timmy, put some milk in that coffee of yours. No wonder you’re always so bitter.”

He ignored the jibe, leaning against the counter and just savoured his first cup. There would be a second and a third, but the first was important. Sacred. He smiled.”Hey, think Cass’ll coming home?”

Jason perked up. “Who’s Cass?”

“A Goddess,” Steph said with conviction before answering Tim. “Dunno. She’s still holed up in Hong Kong.”

With another sip, Tim just rolled his eyes. “She’s my sister. – Ever played _Warlocks and Warriors_?”

Jason scrunched up his nose. “Isn’t that for geeks?”

“Excuse me.”

Steph spluttered. “Now we’re all going to die. Timbo’s gonna kill us both.”

With an air of finality, Tim set his coffee on the table. “You’re going to play with us, Jay. And you’re going to enjoy it.”

They set up their game in the library, each of them only smiling when Bruce subtly joined them. The man sat down beside Tim, rolling an eight-sided-die between his fingers and giving it a look as if it’d personally offended him. “This isn’t right.”

“It’s a die. There’s numbers on it.” Jason rolled his eyes, browsing through the handbook. “They work just like normal dice.”

Mumbling “They are normal” under his breath, Tim otherwise ignored Bruce trying to keep up the adult-act. He wanted to spent time with them but didn’t know how to show it. So he went for stupid adult/almost Brucie. “So, characters,” he started. “You have to choose a race and a class first.”

“Oh! I wanna be a ninja,” Jason grinned. “Or an assassin. Is there an assassin?” He raised his fists, punching a quick one-two into the air. “Pow, pow!”

“And you?” Tim turned to Bruce, hands on his hips as if daring him to bring up morality and the no-killing-rule.

Instead, Bruce ducked his head. “I think I’d like to be a cleric.” He caught Tim’s eye. “Those are the ones that can heal other players, right?”

Tim closed his mouth. What could he say to that? Shrugging, he finally settled on “Sure, it’s your funeral. Steph?”

“Some kind of lean, mean fighting machine. Also I’m a dwarf beauty model.”

Instead of groaning, he shrugged again. This was his family. Also, he’d had worse parties. “Okay, a dwarf. What about you two?”

“What do we need those papers for? Looks like taxes.”

“Those are character sheets, Jay.”

“I’m a ninja-assassin. Ninja-assassins don’t pay taxes.”

 

They only ended their game when Alfred made them eat a light snack, knowing full well at least Tim and Steph planned to go out tonight. When they got back to clean up the library, Bruce lingered behind, talking to Alfred. The juice boxes had piled up during the game, so Jay had to do two trips to throw them all away while Tim and Steph put everything else in boxes.

“When Cass is back, she’s gonna drag us clubbing again.”

Tim rolled his eyes fondly. “You love it.”

Leaning over the table quickly, Steph kissed his cheek. “I also owe you a dance for this, boyfriend.”

“Urgh, gross.” Jason stuck his tongue out. “Get a room, will you?” He ambled into the room, hands shoved in his pockets. They really needed to get him more clothes.

With a smile, Steph clarified, “Ex-boyfriend.”

Jason shrugged and looked up, the wooden panels on the ceiling apparently very interesting. “Well, can’t fault your taste.” Quickly, he fixed his eyes on his feet as if compelling them to move. He was out the door in seconds.

“Oh, great, puberty.” Tim tilted his head towards his friend. “He’s going to kill me when he’s back, isn’t he?”

Steph’s laugh definitely was at his expense. She put a hand on his arm, cackling but taking the boxes from him and passing Bruce on her way to Tim’s room.

“Do you have a moment?”

“If you want to kiss me, too, get in line.” Tim threw his arms in the air. “Seriously, that’s my life now, is it? None of you knew how to play _Warlocks and Warriors_ and I already wanna take your party to the next game night with Ives.”

Bruce gave him a strange look before shaking his head. “You liked this?”

“Are you kidding?” Tim laughed. “I loved it. Bruce, you know I’ve been playing that game for years.”

“I’m glad.”

“Heh. Sure you are.” Knowing how strange this was for his partner, Tim bit his lip against the giddy feeling in his stomach and got back to the topic. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Getting this steel-eyed look he usually wore under the cowl, Bruce straightened his back. “I informed Zatanna.”

Oh, wow. The surprises didn’t stop coming. “You informed Zatanna.”

“Yes.”

“And?” When Bruce just raised an eyebrow in response, Tim huffed. “Can she turn him back? Does she know what happened? _Anything_ , Bruce?”

“I informed her.”

“Yes, I – Jeez, you didn’t tell her anything, did you?”

Bruce settled back in the chair he had occupied earlier. “There’s nothing she has to know, yet.” He crossed his arms on the table, motioning for Tim to sit, too. “I don’t know why you feel so strongly about robbing him - us - of this chance, but Alfred had some suspicions.” _  
_

_Did he now_. Tim raised an eyebrow and kept standing.

“Son,” his voice was warm, filled with a deliberate show of love Tim couldn’t take seriously. “He won’t replace you. There’s still a need for Red Robin.”

Cursing under his breath, he glared at his partner. “I know that. I – You have no idea what you’re talking about and for once I’m glad because that means you can’t keep this conversation going if I don’t.”

“You can’t tell me you’re okay with taking this from him. Taking his family from him again.”

Tim could still smell the sweets they had shared during their game, the juice boxes they’d drank and the familiar scent of Bruce’s aftershave. Those hours were still fresh in his mind; not long ago they’d been happy together and now he was accused of being cruel. Heartless.

“Don’t. Don’t try to talk to me about family. This isn’t about it. – It’s not even about Jay.”

Glowering, Bruce stood. He had more than a few pounds on Tim and if they would resort to physical means, he would not hold back much. He knew Tim was more than capable of holding himself in a fight against even the Bat.

Tim hissed through his teeth. This was ridiculous. “He’s a child and you loved that child. You want more time with that child, but he’s also smack in the middle of puberty. Know what that’s about? Ask Dick.” Looking like he’d been slapped, his partner fell silent, though Tim knew he had not yet won. “You’re bad at letting go, man. Really bad and I get it. We’re all afraid to be alone,” he added sardonically. “You still have to let him go. Your desire for a second chance with Jason makes you unfit for objective thought.”

“Get to your point.”

Biting his lip, Tim almost shrank back. Bruce was listening, but he was misunderstanding. “Have you ever stopped to think about anyone but yourself? Have you even thought about Damian?”

“He can handle it. He’s Robin.”

Anger burned in Tim’s chest. This stupid old man didn’t want to understand, didn’t want to give his sons what they needed. “That’s no excuse! Being Robin doesn’t mean we’re invulnerable, that we don’t need our dad. – _He_. He needs – Shit, just forget it.” Tim turned on his heel, ignoring the taste of blood on his tongue as he ran.

 

Patrol was a great way to let off some steam usually, but this time, Tim was unable to decide what he was feeling. He was hurt and confused; it wasn’t like Bruce was entirely wrong. Jason had always been his Robin, the one Tim had shaped himself after, and who had been his idol for so long. Everything Robin was had been a legend - a legend now come to life and Tim was nothing like him. Never had been. If he were de-aged… His fourteen-year-old self would not take this like Jason did. Tim’s fourteen-year-old self would need to know exactly who he was going to be and then counteract everything negative. Like never becoming Batman. Never taking up guns.

Nimble as ever, Nightwing dropped down beside him, his steps making almost no sound on the roof. “You should’ve called me.”

He bared his teeth at his brother. “I have enough people tell me I’m wrong as it is.”

“About?”

“I won’t give you a reason to feel like having me committed, again.”

“Tim.”

“ _Nightwing_.”

Sighing, Dick ran a hand through his hair. They stood next to each other on the roof top, overlooking Gotham like nothing had happened between them. Like no one had ever come back changed. “C’mon, talk to me. I don’t like it either.”

Tim’s mouth fell open, his eyes snapping to Dick’s. “Wait, what?”

“Damian. He won’t show it, but he’s anxious.”

“He thinks Bruce is gonna replace him?”

“No.” A small smile grew on Dick’s lips. “Don’t quote me on that, but he’s been kinda fond of the adult Jason.”

“I … figured.”

When Dick sat down on the edge he patted the place beside him. “Did you know they bonded over the kid’s mom? Apparently, Jason’s still in contact.”

“Interesting.”

“Maybe. But tell me, what’s gonna happen when Talia finds out? ‘Cause I have no idea how her relationship with Jason works.” He leaned back on his arms, looking over their city. They’d done this often; more often recently, trying to rekindle what they’d once had.

When he settled next to him, Tim fought the urge to let his head rest on Dick’s shoulder. They had gotten better, but he wasn’t quite ready yet to literally lean on his brother again. “No ‘if’?”

“They have regular contact, Timmers. There’s no ‘if’.” After a moment, Dick hissed through his teeth. “It’s gonna kill Bruce. She’ll want to turn Jay back. If not for her own sake, then for her son’s.”

“And Bruce’d get torn apart, sacrificing Jay’s happiness for Damian’s.” Reluctantly fixing his eyes on Dick’s features, Tim decided to ask. He needed to know, needed more information. “What about you personally? Do you want to turn him back?”

“I don’t think we have a choice. He won’t change. You and I both know de-aging doesn’t make you a new person.”

Shrinking back, Tim raised his hands between them, “Woah, back up, not so fast. He’s fourteen.”

His brother’s eyes reflected both worry and frustration, a mix that became common the more they talked. “Tim, that’s the guy who’s footprint decorated your ribs more than once. It’s him and it will always be him, you don’t honestly think going through puberty a second time changes anything, do you?”

“He’d grow up with a family.”

Laying a hand over his eyes, Dick exhaled deeply, trying hard not to sound any more sullen than he was. “He’s already grown up. He’s just forgotten.”

The memory popped up uninvited, leaving Tim with nagging doubt. Jay had remembered the TV shows, he had no problems with technology… But he was a kid. A fourteen-year-old that had his father by his side this time. That wouldn’t need to hunt down some crazy, dead woman. He would never become the Red Hood again. “So what do you want to do? If the result’s all the same, we just turn him back an good riddance?”

“Goddammit, Tim, we have to find a way to turn him back. We need to talk to Zatanna, Etrigan maybe, I don’t know, but we need to do it fast. Bad things are gonna happen and the longer Jason stays this way, the more the others will suffer.”

Tim grit his teeth. “So what, you’re my boss now? You tell me that’s gonna happen and I have to concur?”

“I don’t see you have a better plan.”

“Well, I do,” Tim lied. When Dick had pointed out the memory-issue, anger had already started to built. Anger at himself for seeing the argument as valid. Anger that maybe, Jason hadn’t changed at all, just like neither he nor Bruce had been anyone but themselves when Klarion first played with them. But also anger at Dick for being this preposterous about it. Right now, Jason was a mere kid, wasn’t he?

“Then tell me,” Dick insisted. “Tell me how Red Robin is gonna handle this. Tell me how he’s gonna talk to anyone but his family and decide everything on his own. How he’s gonna go up against that witchboy, tell him to make everyone happy and _get himself killed in the process._ ”

Stunned, his anger receded like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over the burning in his chest. “Wow.”

“You’re not facing Klarion alone,” Dick pointed out. “I won’t let you. I’m not losing you just because you think you can handle magic on your own.”

Tim stood, waving his hands between them. “Woah, no. No, Dick. No.” He shook his head, not giving his brother a chance to say anything else or even look him in the eye. “Just no. We’re not doing this. You go do your thing, maybe get Bruce a therapist. I’ll do what has to be done and you don’t get a say, and that’s final.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, arguments. So, everyone's a little torn about the situation; feel free to tell me your thoughts!  
> Drop me a line on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com) if you have time and thanks for reading <3


	4. Chapter 4

Tim was surprised to follow the smell of eggs and bacon the next morning and not find Alfred in front of the stove. Instead, Jason had gotten himself yet another outfit from Tim’s closet and stuck his tongue out in concentration.

“Good morning!”

Grunting a response, he stabbed the button on the coffee machine. “’Good’ and ‘morning’ don’t mix. They’re like... what’s that fancy Greek word?”

“Oxymoron,” Jason guessed and for a moment, Tim heard the adult version of the kid put emphasis on the ‘moron’-part. He shook his head. If he was hearing voices, it was definitely time for a cup of coffee.

Jason stretched on his tiptoes and got a plate out to put his food on. He took his time to place the bacon on one side, two eggs on the other, making a crude little smiley-face out of breakfast. “I’m gonna get this down to the big guy, but I’m back in a second - Can I get you anything after?”

The coffee machine gurgled to life, filling the room with a full and bitter taste. Jason was a good kid. He made Bruce breakfast though he hadn’t been allowed on patrol last night. Seeing Tim wasn’t a morning person, he even offered to prepare something for him, too. “Nah, make yourself some. Want me to take that downstairs? I need to talk to him anyway.”

Smiling, Jason held the plate out for him. “Knock yourself out.”

With a cup of coffee in one hand and Bruce’s breakfast in the other, Tim found himself watching the man in front of the giant computer screen argue with Barbara’s unmistakable voice.

“So what you are saying is that you had your operatives search his safe house.”

_“I don’t see you doing anything to find out what happened.”_

Bruce grunted. While he wasn’t happy about her line of action, she was right, Bruce himself acted reluctantly in this special case. “So what did you find?”

_“Cat hair.”_

“There’s bound to be some,” Tim chimed in and set the plate on the console. “He’s got three.”

 _“Yeah, but there were_ four _.”_

“The familiar.” Pulling his breakfast closer, a tiny smile tugged at Bruce’s lips. It didn’t so much speak of surprise, rather than nostalgia.

_“Possibly.”_

“Well, we don’t really have any other suspects as of yet.” Tim leaned against the console, his back to the screens. If they were right, if those hairs were Teekl’s, how did Jason get a hold of him? And why? “Any idea how we can contact Klarion?”

“Zatanna,” Bruce said around a fork full of egg.

With a sigh, Tim pushed off the console. “You’re talking about the same Zatanna that - correct me if I’m wrong - doesn’t yet need to know anything?” When Bruce kept eating his food stoically, he rolled his eyes. “Thought so.”

 _“Doesn’t mean it’s not worth a try.”_ Barbara almost sounded fond, but it was clear the reference went over her head. _“So, how are the odds of me seeing the little shrimp?”_

Surprisingly, it was Bruce who declined her. _“Why not? Steph has seen him and now Dick’s coming over. You even got him set up with Damian this afternoon.”_

Confusion focusing Tim on his partner, he ignored Barbara in favour of gaping. He hadn’t known. And Dick would come over. What the hell... “Look,” he finally replied as Bruce made no move to do so. “As far as I can tell, Jay’s not just the person he was as a teenager. When I talked to him, he’s shown knowledge of pop culture, and he might have remained some of his skills, too. What he has forgotten... I really can’t tell the criteria for that, yet.” He turned to face the screens, resting his hands on the console. “But there’s a good chance he doesn’t remember what made him the Red Hood. You being there, not Batgirl, not _standing_ , that could be bad for him.”

The silence at his side told him nothing, not what expression Bruce wore, nor whether he agreed, but Barbara’s silence spoke volumes. _“Gee, don’t pull your punches, former boy wonder. You know ,”_ she said, her tone only slightly wavering between anger and warning. _“You can’t protect him forever.”_

The adult Jason had shared a similar kind of anger with her, he had influenced each and every member of their family and hadn’t stopped putting his mark on Gotham since he came back. Sooner or later, Jay would find out about this man; he was bound to be confronted with his ‘future’. Setting his yaw, Tim refused to accept that. That boy upstairs, that was his Robin. Robin should be happy and bold and Tim would do anything to keep him that way. Because that had always been his job, right? He needed to make sure Batman had his Robin.

 

“He looks grumpy, doesn’t he?”

“Sure does.”

“Think it’s because he hasn’t gotten breakfast, yet?”

“Possible.”

Tim blinked, looking back and forth between Dick and Jason. “Aren’t you two supposed to... I don’t know. Not like each other?”

Smirking, Jason pointed his fork at him. “I don’t need to like him to know you’re grumpy because you’re hungry.”

With his hands in the air, Tim moved to get another cup of coffee. It was still early and he had already been in an argument with Babs, had gotten angry at Bruce and was blindsided by his big brother. It would have been nice if everyone just left him alone with his laptop and the giant blanket Cass had gotten him last Christmas.

Dick and Jason were destroying a whole buffet full of breakfast food, eating and talking at the same time. Regret had always been a big part or their earlier relationship and after last night, Tim had not expected Dick to try and socialize with the teenager. Yet there they were, annoying Tim together.

With a full mouth, Dick perked up. “Right, I had a reason for coming here.” He pushed a battered, old Nokia over the table. When he told the kid “That’s yours.” Tim nearly burned his tongue on the hot coffee.

“You got him a phone?”

“It’s his. I didn’t get him anything.”

Jason took the phone reluctantly, turning it in his hands. “Are you sure? It looks pretty old.”

“Understatement of the year. Seriously, Dick, where did you get this dinosaur?”

“Damian had it.” Oh. “And I thought’d be good if you had one at the mall,” he added towards Jay.

Biting his lip, Tim restrained himself. Apparently everyone other than him knew Jason’s plans for today.

“Mall, right.” He gave Tim a quick glance, putting the phone away and focusing on his food again. The fork found its way into his mouth once or twice before he pushed his chair out and cleaned his plate away.

Tim waited until Jason headed upstairs before he spoke. “You could’ve told me you’d be over.”

Dick shrugged. “I hadn’t thought I would. But with Bruce giving Dami a hard time... I wanted to know whether I remember the kid right.”

Tim’s coffee was getting cold. “And?” He took the cup, swirling the dark liquid inside.

“It’s strange.”

“How calm he is.”

With a laugh, Dick stood. “Oh, no! Jason’s always been resilient, being thrown into an unknown situation is fine for him.”

“Not that I doubt you--”

\-- “Then don’t. The kid’s Jason, that’s for sure. He’s also acting more experienced than I remember him being at fourteen.”

Raising the cup to his lips, Tim bit the rim. “What’s this mall thing?”

“It was Steph’s idea,” Dick explained. “Bruce wanted Damian to meet him, but Dami - You know. You figured it out. So neutral territory. Fun territory.”

Tim chuckled. “’Fun’, huh. Have you ever met Damian?”

 

The kid looked smaller than he actually was, standing in front of the mall with his hands shoved tightly in his pockets. He looked at no one, pressed his back against the display window and shuffled his feet. Quickly, Tim pushed his helmet off, running a hand through his hair. Jason had sounded okay on the phone, but seeing him stand there all dressed up and with nowhere to go, he’d rather the teenager had been angry. Had screamed and cursed Damian. But he had been quiet and calm, as if he was just accustomed to being stood up. Being disappointed.

When he was within shouting distance, Tim waved; not wanting to make a scene but needing Jason to know he was there.

Pushing himself off the window, the kid actually smiled. “Hey Tim. Nice bike.”

“What-- um, yeah. So, hey,” Tim started. “Looks like I’m lucky today.”

Raising a eyebrow, Jason crossed his arms in front of his chest, the black jacket he had borrowed bunching up. “Why’s that?”

“With Damian being a no-show, I can drag you around the mall myself,” Tim declared enthusiastically. “If you’re up for a little shopping?”

Jason grinned and picked at his shirt. “What, you don’t like seeing me in your clothes? I don’t have money if you’ve forgotten.”

“Yeah, well, I’m one of WE’s big shot shareholders, so I don’t think we’ll have monetary problems just yet.”

“Rich boy,” Jason said almost fondly. “If you’d wanted to be my sugar daddy, all you had to do was ask.”

Tim cringed. Not for the first time, Tim wanted to ask about Jason’s past. About the time he had taken care of his mother; the time Tim knew next to nothing about. But he kept his mouth shut. If this was how Jay coped with loneliness and disappointment, Tim could deal with his boasting. “You’re fourteen and we’re so not going there.”

Shrugging, Jason pushed his hands in his pockets again. “Your loss.”

The mall was filled with people, but Tim had seen worse the time Cass had made him go with her on Black Friday. It was okay, though, neither minded being just a face in the crowd and the queues were still short enough.

Beside him, Jason scanned the other customers with a practised look that Tim had had to learn. “You think that guy would miss his watch?”

“If I were inclined to encourage criminal behaviour I’d suggest looking at his hand for an answer.”

Jason frowned. “Why? He’s not wearing a ring or anything.”

“Exactly.” Tim smiled. He steered the kid past the man kissing a young girl that could have been his daughter. “He’s not wearing his wedding ring and that is definitely not his wife.”

“So you’d say ‘steal from the adulterer, he deserves it’?” Jason grinned up at him with a shine in his eye. “How did you know he’s married?”

“The usual? Less tanned where the ring usually would be. Left hand, ring finger.”

“He could be divorced.”

“Nah.”

Now Jason actively stared and Tim had to put an arm around his shoulder to safe the kid from running into someone. “Wanna know the secret to magic?” Jason nodded quickly, his face split with the biggest grin Tim had seen yet. “Just know more than your audience.”

The kid gasped. “You know that guy!”

Tim ducked inside a shop, biting his lip. “Yup. Let’s hope he hasn’t seen us, because I really don’t want another invitation to his yacht parties.”

“So, what are we looking for?”

When the kid frowned at one of the price tags on a jacket, Tim rolled his eyes. “A wardrobe that fits you. And stop looking at the prices, you’ll only get annoyed.”

“You really want to buy me new clothes.”

Shrugging, Tim held the jacket in front of his chest. “Sure. Look around, go wild, just make sure it’s your size.”

Jason nodded, searching through the rack next to him. “Can I try one of these?” With a strangely defiant glare, he held up a short, plaid skirt.

“Why?”

“Dunno.” His eyes stayed on Tim, but his feet shuffled back. “I just wanna know what it’d look like.”

The shop’s ceiling was nothing but air vents and light bulbs when Tim looked up, waving a hand vaguely. “Sure, knock yourself out."

 

Eventually, they ended their shopping spree in a small café. Jason was happily cutting his neapolitan ice cream cake with his spoon, too exhausted from the day to care for any more chatter. He was happy, relaxed as if this was normal. As if he belonged here, belonged in Tim’s life like a little brother rather than the guy who had tried to kill him. He could count the days Jason had been de-aged on one hand and the kid was already acting as if he had never been older. As if he was quite fine with how things had turned out.

Stirring his coffee, Tim looked around the café. It was small, but their coffee was good, as was their ice cream and they even had slushies.

“You asked me what I remember.” Jason was shoving another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, kicking their purchases under the table. “I... the last thing I remember is being angry. I don’t know why, but... Since then, I have never been angry like that again. Ever since I met you at the manor, I guess.”

Not knowing what to say, Tim stalled by taking a sip of his coffee. But Jason needed no incentive to keep talking; he eyed his dish, biting the inside of his cheek before finally looking Tim in the eye. “I have to know,” he said. “Who are you? - To me I mean. The future me?” The last part was so obviously a question, the kid floundering and shoving the rest of his ice cream in his mouth.

Knowing what to say, Tim smiled relieved. “We’re not related, but I’m your brother.”

The kid nodded like he had expected that. “The phone Dick gave me was mine, right. There aren’t many contacts, but I called yours pretty often. And... Damian’s apparently, too.”

“You hoped to meet him.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like I’ll be getting better at making friends in the future, and I did get lucky with you, so... yeah.”

Damian despised the idea of sharing Robin and he missed the adult Jason. But the kid was still there, no matter how much Damian wished otherwise. A kid who made Bruce so happy, who had such an impact on him that Batman was unable to healthily exist without a Robin. That was the kid they were dealing with right now and hurting him would not change anything, wouldn’t magically turn him back. Jason was a fourteen-year-old without friends who did not deserve this. And no matter what age, he was Tim’s brother.

“Yeah, well, his loss. You liked Steph, right? She’s gonna make me have a movie night with her again, soon, and I’d like you to join. You up for a Star Wars marathon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bad day, so I ended this a little happy. As always, I'd love to know what you're thinking, so feel free to comment and/or criticize, or drop me a line on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com), and thanks for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

When they came home that evening, they found Bruce having a snack in the kitchen. Jason ran towards the man, almost jumping in his arms. “Did you know I have the best brother ever? You did, didn’t you? You had to know!”

With a smile on his lips, Bruce held Jason’s hands, letting the kid bob on his feet happily. Craning his neck, he gave Tim a curt nod before turning back to Jason. “Thank you for picking them up. - I’m glad you and Damian got along this well, Jay.”

Jason frowned. “I’m not talking about him. I don’t even know that guy.”

Not really wanting to be there for that conversation, Tim shoved his keys in his pocket and picked up their purchases to carry them upstairs, but he didn’t even make it out of the kitchen. Jason rushed to him, hugging him and burying his face in Tim’s shoulder. “Thank you for today,” he said, meaning every word.

Bruce was flabbergasted and Tim wished he had his camera. Instead, he hugged the kid back, combing a hand through his hair when Jason only tightened his grip. “Hey, no problem, Jay. If you wanna repay me, just make sure the coffee’s on when I come back down, okay?”

Lifting his head from Tim’s shoulder, Jason nodded eagerly. “You’re going out tonight?”

“Guess so.”

“Then I’ll come with you.”

“No, you won’t.” Bruce’s words were final, getting their attention back. He was sitting rigid in his chair, his fear hidden almost as soon as Tim could notice the emotion.

He sat the bags down, keeping an arm around Jason. “He’s still Robin. He can take care of himself.”

“We don’t know that.”

With a small hiss, Jason tensed. “You can test me. C’mon, dad, you can’t bench me again!”

The man just shook his head and stood to take his plate away. “Maybe. But not today. You will stay and sleep and that’s final.”

Jason quickly pulled out the chair Bruce had just occupied and climbed on it. With his feet firmly on the seat, he stemmed his hands on his hips. This way, even little Jason could look down on Bruce. “No way, I’m Robin. You need me.”

Bruce’s jaw clenched more every second, only to be forced open by a voice that Tim had last heard in the field. “You’re a child. I won’t put you in danger ever again.”

“Hypocrite,” Jason said when the man turned to leave. For a moment, Bruce seemed to stay, but he kept walking, leaving the kitchen and heading out alone.

 

“He did what now?”

“Master Jason left the premises.” Even through the comm, Alfred’s voice sounded distressed.

“Calm down, he’s Robin, remember.” Tim dropped down the last few rungs of a fire escape, steadily following the signal he got from the cave’s computers.

Jason was smart, he would never go out without any means of getting backup. Not this Jason. Not the young kid who still trusted his family. “I got his phone’s signal, I’m getting him home, just don’t tell B yet, okay? He’d just freak out.”

“I’m not sure this is wise,” Alfred replied.

“It’s as wise as it gets.”

Tim stepped in the alley where the signal came from, carefully keeping an eye out for any movements. The street was divided by a chain-link fence between the buildings, crates and trashcans barring Tim from having a good look to the other side from his place at the alley’s mouth. But the signal came from here and Jason was nowhere to be seen.

A quick glance upwards would have to suffice. The most danger from above were usually the Bats in Gotham, but Tim still didn’t like alleys. Alleys like this were the perfect place for a trap, only one entrance and no way up or down either. He shook his head. There was nothing more dangerous than him outside tonight. Nothing.

Getting closer to the crates, he could finally hear something else besides his own steps on the wet concrete and the usual background noise of the streets. Voices, taunting and cocksure. Tim put a hand on one of the crates, testing the damp wood with a slow push. Satisfied it would hold his weight, he climbed on it and pushed the remnants of a drenched cardboard box to the side. Having a good look through the fence now, he could feel a shiver run down his spine. Goosebumps that came from excitement rather than the cold. His suit insulated him from the dropping temperatures at night, but there was nothing defending him from the rush he got watching a fourteen-year-old put himself between a girl and two men. They wore combat boots and parkas, could carry weapons on them and Jason wouldn’t even know.

“You know what this is. Give us your money and then get of out here, twerp,” one of them bellowed, his voice bouncing off the buildings to both sides. His face was crowded with dirty blond curls of a nest that had no right to be called a beard, and almost obscured his beady eyes. His boots scuffed against the pavement when he stepped forward, crowding Jason and the girl against the fence at their backs.

The alley opened up to the streets further down, but the two wouldn’t be able to reach it without having to pass the men. There were no crates to climb on this side, just their attackers in front and a fence at their backs.

“After you, stink bug.”

“You think you’re a big man, don’t you.” The other guy pushed his hands in his parka and laughed loudly. He stepped even closer to them than his friend, towering over Jason and looking down at him over his crooked nose. “Well I got news for you–”

Jason didn’t wait for it. He stomped on his foot, pushing his shoulder into the man’s chest, already moving on to the other while his friend still stumbled.

Contrary to popular believe, being Robin didn’t give a boy magic. Especially not if that boy was in nothing but dark street clothes and picking a fight with two grown men.

Beard-guy caught his fist, pulling it and using Jason’s momentum to whip his elbow over the kid’s face.

Instinctively, Tim jumped the fence, landing in a crouch on the other side. The sound of his cape settling behind him cut through the stunned silence. Having fought with worse injuries, Tim ignored the tugging in his side. Neither of those guys looked like an experienced fighter, anyway.

Jason hissed in pain when he glared over his shoulder. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, well, next time give me a heads-up, will you?”

The kid rolled his shoulders, trusting Tim with his back. He didn’t wipe his face, giving the thugs a bloodied grin. “You said you had news for me? Well so do I.”

The men exchanged a look. Beard-guy cracked his knuckles while his friend stopped rubbing his chest in favour of pulling a knife from his parka. Pushing Jason aside, Tim focused on the weapon. In the narrow alley, extending his bo was out of question, but he wasn’t going to get another knife cut. Once in a week was enough.

The man slashed at him, grinning like a madman who wasn’t afraid of one of Gotham’s vigilantes. Tim used his staff as a baton, hitting his hand as soon as the guy gave himself an opening with his wide moves, the knife clattering to the ground. Before the attacker could clutch his wrist, Tim caught his arm and pulled. He set his stance, thowing the man over his hip.

It was Jason who put his foot on the knife before beard-guy could move. “Don’t start to think now,” he said. “You only have two brain cells and I’m not sure they could take all the work without imploding.” He kicked the weapon behind him with a laugh.

Tim’s opponent coughed, but neither man made another move, so he felt safe to pull the zip ties from his belt. Jason caught them easily.

From the corner of his eyes, he watched the kid put them on beard-guy, ignoring the protests he got from his own prisoner. Once the man was cuffed to the fence, Tim straightened, intending to have the girl call the police. Until then, he had thought of her as a victim and didn’t react properly when she came at him with the knife.

The shock stopped the pain, his movements more instinct than anything else. Tim held her wrist where she had stabbed him, taking her out by breaking her nose with a quick headbutt. She was untrained, screaming, bleeding more than him. There was a moment of satisfaction before he caught Jason’s eye. What was the kid so afraid of? What was he looking at, the knife in Tim’s side? Probably. Was it bad? Probably not. It still hurt.

“Call the police,” he said, imitating Batman’s tone when he barked orders. Giving the kid something to do was good. Inspecting the wound was better. Jason moved like any Robin would, securing the girl while informing the authorities almost automatically. When he was done, Tim gave him not another second to think. “Move,” he said. “We’re getting out of here.”

 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Jason kept repeating for the umpteenth time. He was fussing around with one of Tim’s shirts, wringing it in his hands while Alfred took care of the wound.

“Stop it. That’s the reason why we wear armour on the street, Jay. Not just a hoodie, okay?”

“I’m sorry. “ Jason cringed. As the wound was not deep, the synthetics had done their job and the girl hadn’t been the strongest to start with, Tim was more annoyed than hurt. He had been stabbed this week already, dammit.

When Alfred finally threw his gloves in the trash, Tim inspected his bandages. “We’re also not telling Bruce, so stop worrying.”

“We’re not?”

“We’re not.”

Alfred shook his head and silently pointed to the small cabinet they kept stocked with orange juice in the medbay. As soon as he had stepped back, Jason was in front of Tim, handing him the shirt. “Won’t he notice the bandages?”

Tim waved him off and stood. “Took him almost six months to realize I was missing a spleen.”

This time, Alfred interfered, his voice stern, “Which, although true, is more a result of Master Tim avoiding his family than negligence.”

“You’re only mad because he didn’t tell you.”

Jason hadn’t moved. He still stood in front of him, closer now that Tim was no longer sitting on the table, and stared at the scar. When he reached out, Tim didn’t flinch. “How?”

“Been careless.”

The kid hummed in reply. His fingers grazed the scar while the frown deepened on his face. “The armour didn’t do its job then.”

Tim laughed and backed away, finally putting his shirt on. “Yeah. Stupid armour.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jason, stop.” It took a moment, but eventually, the kid looked up. “It’s really not your fault. Nothing happened, okay?”

“You could’ve died.” His voice trembled, sounding wet.

“I didn’t.”

“But you could have.”

Biting his lip, he hugged the kid close. He was shivering, grabbing at Tim desperately. “I’m here, Jay. I’m here and so are you. We’re alright.” Jason sobbed almost soundlessly. “We’re alright,” Tim repeated, stroking his back. “Everything’s fine.”

 

When Tim woke the next morning, Jason had turned his back to him and was clutching the pillow. Other than lying right on the edge and thus in serious danger of falling off the bed, the kid kept sleeping soundly when Tim got up. The last days must have been exhausting, and last night hadn’t helped, so Tim let him be and silently made his way downstairs. Making a beeline for the coffee machine, he ignored the voices coming from the study. Bruce and Alfred were arguing but it was much too early to get involved.

Finally in the kitchen, he found Dick already perched on the table. “Hey there, sleepyhead. Rough night?”

“’Morning.”

“It’s almost twelve.” He laughed and pushed a plate of cookies over. “Sit down, you look like a zombie.”

Tim considered eating and decided it was worth a try. “Still need coffee,” he grumbled, but pulled himself a chair out.

“I’m already on it, little brother.” Dick tousled his hair, nodding to where the coffee machine was gurgling away on the counter.

Tim stuffed a cookie in his mouth and let his head rest on the table while chewing. Mornings were hard. Whoever invented mornings should be behind bars.

He had nodded off when Dick finally put a steaming cup in front of him. “Love you.”

“And here I’m not sure you’re talking to me or the coffee.”

Tim blew on the hot beverage before shooting his brother a glance. “We’re probably better off without you knowing.”

“Probably.” Dick smiled. “So, hey, you awake enough for work after that cup?”

Picking his head up, Tim frowned. “Not if it’s monkey-suit work.”

“Zatanna’s downstairs in the cave.”

“Oh.”

“Get ready, get dressed, wake the kid.”

“And what are you going to do?”

Dick took the plate and moved to leave the kitchen. “I’m making sure the boss doesn’t implode.”

“That bad?” Tim cringed in sympathy.

“He’s a bundle of nerves. Acts like someone wants to hurt the kid.”

Letting his brother go handle whatever was waiting for them in the cave, Tim drank his coffee. The wound in his side pulsed along the beat of his heart and he would need painkillers soon enough. With each throb, the memory of last night got clearer.

Jason had tried to protect that girl. The girl that had helped their assailants, had been the bait all along, and had lured Jason into the trap. In retrospect, it was a normal occurrence in Gotham. Nothing to dwell upon, really. Jason just had the worst luck with the people he trusted.

When Tim made it back to his room, Jason was sitting on the bed, hugging his legs close to his chest. Tim sat down on the mattress with him. “You’re awake?”

“Obviously.”

“You hungry?”

“No.” Jason shifted uneasily. He didn’t shy away when Tim put a hand on his shoulder, though.

“Are you alright?”

“I found them.” He blinked, looking at Tim like he had just realized he was there. “The guns.”

The wound pounded harshly, and it took a moment for Tim to compose himself. _The guns_ , he had said. Tim didn’t have guns. They didn’t use guns.

His body moved to the night stand as if on autopilot, downing a handful of painkillers while his mind raced. The guns, as is Jason’s guns. The ones that were part of his Red Hood get-up. The gear Steph had brought over in her ridiculous pink sports bag.

Tim swallowed. He knew how to lie, knew how to avoid and deflect. He didn’t know, though, how Jason would react.

When he pulled it out from under the bed, the bag was opened, both guns at the very top, for everyone to see. “They’re evidence,” Tim explained.

“In your room.”

“Yes.”

Jason’s face was blank; not cold or confused like that of a child, but blank like Jason’s. The adult Jason. “Okay,” he said, his tone never betraying his thoughts.

After struggling with himself, Tim steered clear off the topic. “We’ll talk about them later. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

 

Zatanna greeted them with an irritated, but fond smile. She and Bruce had a history Tim never really had the courage to explore in detail.

Last time, they had been able to reverse Klarion’s spell, but as they had no clue how to even contact him this time, her just being here was a relief. Magic was interesting if not his expertise.

She gave Tim a small nod and held her hand out for Jason. “Hello,” she said. “I’m –”

– “Zatanna Zatara. I know who you are.” The kid had his hackles up, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “I’m young, not stupid.”

“Also, you don’t seem to have lost all your memories.” Zatanna raised an eyebrow. “Nor your experiences. You do know how to handle modern technology.”

“What’s it to you?” When Tim laid a hand on his shoulder, Jason instantly leaned into the touch. He was tense and afraid, but curious. It took a moment for him to relax. “Okay, yeah. Can someone now please tell me what’s the plan?”

“You’ve been de-aged.” Zatanna motioned for them to take a seat at the table where Dick was keeping Bruce from stalking over. “Are you aware of that?”

Jason took his place next to Bruce. He looked around, giving each of them a quick glance. “The broad strokes, I guess.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

Tim clenched his hand in the fabric of his sweater. They had never asked that question, had never dared to… to what? To think of Jay as a human being who would have his own opinion?

Just assuming that he was afraid or anxious or happy had only worked because the kid was Jason. Because he was resilient and distracted himself by getting to know the one person that he had currently no memories of. The wound in his side kept hurting. Jason trusted him and he would not betray the kid. He would not.

To his left, Dick leaned back in his chair. He smiled, winking at him when he felt Tim’s gaze.

“Can’t say,” Jason replied. He stared at her, his hands fumbling under the table. “I’m happy right now, but in the long run…” Straightening his posture, his eyes found Tim’s. “I think there’s some questions I’d like the answers to first.”

“Shoot,” Dick replied instantly.

The kid frowned, nodding his head towards Zatanna. “No. There’s a reason she’s here. I’m not stupid. I’m either cursed or you want me gone.”

“Jay, no,” Bruce breathed the first words Tim had heard from him after he had benched the kid yesterday.

Jason shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sure everyone here loves you,” Zatanna interfered.

“We’re just worried and want to keep our options open.” Jason’s eyes softened upon Tim’s words. “We don’t know what happened to you either, so if you don’t know anything, and we don’t know anything, we have to be sure you’re not in danger.”

“That’s what I asked Zatanna to come here for.” Putting a hand on the kid’s shoulder, Bruce finally got his bearings. “I have to know, Jay. I have to be sure you’re safe.”

“Okay.” Placing his hands on the table, Jason stood. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“It’s just a quick examination,” Zatanna replied, getting up with him. “Just follow me.”

Tim watched the kid go, his wound still pounding and hurting. He needed more painkillers.

And what should he say about the guns?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister got me a strawberry lollipop, and I got you something to read. Tell me what you think, drop me a line on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com), whatever you feel like, I’d love to hear from you!  
> Thanks for reading <3


	6. Chapter 6

Tim watched Steph and Jason argue over the movies. Apparently, the _Lego Movie_ was already a classic and a must-see, but Jason had his mind set on _Lilo and Stitch_. If he had to interfere, Tim would play dead. Just lie there and not move until those two had finally settled their argument. Also, they’d shot down _A League of Their Own_ at the very start of the evening.

After Zatanna’s examination, it was good to see Jason happy like that. Acting like a child and a part of this family.

The magician had found nothing particular dangerous and left Jason with that knowledge. Neither she nor Bruce sent Tim away though, when they talked afterwards privately.

“You can’t be serious. You’re almost thirty, you gotta act your age, Miss.” Jason laughed at Steph, almost toppling over when she shoved him in revenge.

“Timmy,” she called. “Help us. But no baseball movies.”

He shifted, sitting cross-legged on the couch. With both, Jason and Steph, sitting down on the ground right in front of the TV, Tim easily glared down at them. “What’s wrong with baseball?”

Steph waved him off. “It’s a sport. It’s boring.”

“You’re a Gotham Knights fan, Steph.”

“Irrelevant!”

“ _A League of Their Own_ is about women kicking ass,” he argued, which shut her up.

Picking up the box, Jason skimmed the summary at the back. “I thought it’s about baseball?”

“It’s about the AAGPBL.”

“The what now?”

Tim sunk down in the cushions. “The all-american girls professional baseball league.”

Sliding back, Steph leaned against the couch and patted his knee fondly. “Boyfriend. You’re a huge geek.”

Jason rolled his eyes and put the movie in. He was acting like a child, just like a fourteen-year-old should, but Zatanna had told them a different story. Part of the spell that had de-aged Jason had also made him forget certain memories, but not all. In fact, the biggest change was his body. It was a very weak spell, ageing a body down and making the mind forget nothing but actually being older.

From Jason’s behaviour though, they could conclude the existence of a second spell. One that had made him forget Tim. Had made him forget what had happened the last ten years. But forgetting didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. Jason had learned and mastered skills he could still resort to. Had believes he did not remember making up.

As hard as it was, Tim needed to deal with the teenager next to him being Jason. They guy who hated him just for being his successor, not the kid who loved to be part of a family, who wanted to prove himself to them. Who had no scruple leaning his head on Tim’s shoulder while his eyes were glued to the giant screen in the living room.

Steph had settled on the ground, one arm around his leg and Tim was sure, with both of them hanging on him like that, he wouldn’t make it on patrol tonight. Not if even one of them fell asleep.

“Hey, Tim.” Jason straightened, planting his chin on Tim’s shoulder to whisper in his ear. “You were Robin, right?”

When Steph tightened her grip on his knee, but didn’t react otherwise, Tim smiled. “Who wasn’t.”

“Yeah, but.” Jason shifted around a little, drawing his legs on the cushions. “You were Robin.”

“Yes.”

“But you were trained by Shiva.”

Pulling back, Tim frowned at him. “You were looking into me.” At his feet, Steph moved, carefully looking over her shoulder. “Do you have a point? Something you want to ask me?”

The kid avoided his eyes. “No, just. Getting to know you. I don’t know you, do I?”

Exchanging a look with him, Steph interfered, “Can we just watch the movie, guys? It’s getting good.”

The kid mumbled a quiet apology, turning back to the TV. He hugged Tim’s arm tightly, not moving away. “Just making sure,” he said, finally glancing at Tim from the corner of his eyes.

 

To his surprise, neither of his friends had fallen asleep nor disliked the movie, so when Tim moved through his usual warm-ups in the cave, Steph was already flying and Jason was watching him from a bench besides the mats.

“You’re going out?”

“Astute observation.”

“You’ve been hurt. And you’re still healing.”

Tim bit back a retort, struggling with himself. He would’ve had no scruple asking whose fault that was just a few days ago. But this guy was – no, _looked_ like a fourteen-year-old kid.

It was pure luck Bruce took that moment to walk over. “Any plans for tonight?”

Tim shook his head, holding his stretch. “Nope. Anything I should look into?”

“You’re coming with me. There’s someone we need to meet.”

Tim had been Robin. Had been Bruce’s partner for years. There was no mistaking it. Klarion. They had found him. They would confront him tonight and Bruce wanted him there.

“Good.” Tim smiled. “It’s been a while.” And that. Well, it had been a while since the two of them had patrolled together. Even longer since they had worked a case together. And Tim missed it.

“Suit up then,” Bruce nodded, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

The Batmobile drove them out of Gotham not twenty minutes later. Bruce kept his game face on, but Tim was too busy reading up on Klarion. “So, let’s recap,” he said when he had finished the file. “We assume at least Teekl found his way into Jason’s safe house where a fight happened. Or a hurricane, according to Damian.” He leaned his head against the window, peering out onto the dark highway where the Batmobile felt as out of place as Tim at a fashion show. “Whatever happened, Jason made it outside to where Batgirl found his clothes. And then he made it to the manor. Don’t ask me how a naked teenager made it through Gotham on foot, though.” Tim glanced at his partner, curiously watching for his reaction.

“Best guess, Klarion again,” Bruce grunted, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Possible. Anyway, we got a) an partly amnesiac Jason who b) shrank.” Rolling his head on the window, Tim smushed his cheek against the cold glass. “Are we there yet?”

“Are you prepared for tomorrow?”

Tim raised an eyebrow, rolling his head again and to face his partner. “Tomorrow?”

When Bruce gave him a crooked smile in response, he already knew he would dislike whatever came next. “There’s a board meeting you will be attending.”

“Why me?” Tim whined. “It was you who didn’t show up last time. Just because I made the presentation doesn’t mean I can sell it.”

“You’ll do just fine.”

“You only ever tell me I’ll do fine if you want me to shut up and do it no questions asked, you know.”

“Will you go?”

Tim huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his eyes firmly on the road. “You know I will. You’ve already made plans with me holding that presentation in mind.

“I know I can count on you.”

The car decelerated before Bruce turned off at an exit, going from solid to the cobbled up tar of an old driveway, while Tim mulled that over. They pulled up to an old church that seemed abandoned for quite some time. The roof had broken down and some of the once beautiful lead glass windows lay in shards in the grass outside. It was dark, but something glowed inside the church, a flickering light not unlike candles.

“So that’s it?” Tim leaned forward in his seat, trying to see the spire. “What’s the plan? We go in and demand he turns Jason back?”

Bruce’s hands flexed on the wheel. “We talk. We’ll see.”

Raising an eyebrow, Tim turned to look him in the eye. “Woah, are you saying what I think you’re saying? Batman’s winging it?”

They made it inside without problems, carefully watching their every step. Zatanna had told them to expect anything, even if there was no reason for Klarion to move against them. Not when she was there with him, waiting for them on the steps in front of the old altar. The pews and their remains had been pushed to the sides and the pulpit replaced with a small crate to stand on.

Zatanna stood to greet them before Tim could make out the source of the glow that illuminated the place. Its flickering cast shadows that kept him on edge, always creating movement in the corner of his eyes, always something moving right outside his view. Bruce and Zatanna exchanged a few hushed words, walking up the steps towards the altar.

Trusting his partner to have his back, Tim turned to see something swish across the ground, hopping from one shadow to the other faster than his eyes could follow. Maybe Tim had imagined it, but this was no place to take unnecessary risks.

The silence was almost deafening, so unfamiliar and in no way similar to the ones Tim was used to. Not from the cave and definitely not from the city. The figure rushed under the pews and Tim tried to keep up, turning even more until he had the entrance in his back again.

He had followed the movement only to face Klarion. The witchboy stood between Tim and the steps that lead to the altar where Bruce and Zatanna finally perked up.

From the pews, Teekl rushed towards them, leaping into Klarion’s arms. “I’m glad you could make it,” he said. “Though I am not sure what you want from me.”

“What did you do to my son?” With long strides, Bruce returned, his voice too loud in the cold silence of the church.

Teekl hissed when they turned to face Batman. “Robin? I haven’t seen him since that issue with the Judgement Beast.”

“Oh, God,” Tim slapped a hand on his forehead. “That was ages ago.”

Klarion glanced at him over his shoulder. “That’s you, isn’t it? You’re Robin.”

“It’s Red Robin now, and, listen. Jason. We’re talking about Jason, the guy you turned fourteen again.”

Klarion’s lips formed a silent ‘Oh’ before his eyes lit up. “So it worked. Great.”

Bruce’s fists clenched at his sides, but he kept the tension out of his voice. “You did not know what you were doing.”

“Oh, please.” Teekl made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle when his master waved Bruce off. “I do know what I’m doing.”

“Not always,” Zatanna said, her arms firmly stemmed on her hips. She glared down at the witchboy, not taking a step down the stairs. “Answer the question.”

Klarion blinked before giving Tim another glance. “I still don’t see what you want from me. All I did was pay back a debt.”

“A debt,” Bruce repeated.

“Yes, a debt.”

“Then why did you fight?”

This time, he sat his familiar down before taking a few steps back to stand next to Tim rather than between them. “I did not fight anyone.” When both Zatanna and Bruce moved, Klarion slipped quickly behind Tim. “I did not fight anyone,” he repeated.

Tim caught the cat’s eye, daring the familiar to make a move at the approaching adults. He didn’t. The cat kept watching him instead, waiting for whatever Tim would do. The last time they had met, Tim had helped them, had fought at their side.

“I believe you,” Tim said, a shiver running down his spine. Bruce’s attention was on his partner in an instant, but he was ignored when Tim turned. “But Teekl was in his apartment. And something happened.”

“Sure,” Klarion nodded eagerly. “I had lost Teekl.”

“Again?” Zatanna asked incredulously.

“And Jason took care of him, so I took care of Jason.”

Tim crossed his arms. “By making him younger?”

“By taking away what hurt him.”

Tim watched the witchboy. Watched for the lie but found none. “Did you ask him?”

Klarion smiled, happy to have Tim now firmly between him and the others. “What for? I didn’t need to, I don’t even know what the spell made other than remaking him into the form he would be happiest. Which was obviously a teenager.”

Tim gritted his teeth. “You didn’t ask him.”

“Did you not listen? The spell knows what he wants.”

Teekl made his way to his master’s side silently, appraising Tim’s every move. Tim didn’t care. Bruce had started to circle them, but Tim only had eyes for the witchboy. “And he didn’t ask you either? He never consented to being turned into a kid?”

“What, no, I don’t think that was needed. He was clearly miserable and now he’s better, isn’t he?” Klarion looked surprised, not having expected such a strong reaction from Tim.

“Turn him back.” He shrugged Zatanna’s hand off his shoulder and raised his voice. “Turn him back! He never wanted this. He never asked you to erase him!”

“Red Robin.” It was a reflex to stand down at that voice and Tim almost fought it. Bruce stepped out of a shadow behind Klarion, making his familiar hiss again. “How do you know?”

“Teekl told me,” the witchboy frowned. “Jason trashed his own place before I came. He hated himself and I helped him, what’s so wrong with that?”

When Bruce gave him a calculating nod, Tim couldn’t believe it. Zatanna’s hand squeezed his shoulder and he turned to see her shake her head.

“But he is happy now?”

“He was never happier,” Klarion sneered. “This is his happiest form, being where he wants to be, being how he wants to be. But hey, if you want to take that from him, by all means, let’s turn him back.”

Tim didn’t speak a word on their way back. There was no way he could face Bruce now. Not when Bruce’s answer still rang in his mind.

_“I want him to be happy.”_

 

Tim slammed the car door only moments after the wheels stopped turning. He didn’t look back, already unfastening his cape on the way to the showers. The meeting tomorrow was excuse enough to get off patrol for the rest of the night; not that there was much time left. Robin would be coming in in the next hour, and even Dick and Bruce would return in time for sunrise. Just enough time to stick his head under the water and cool off. He washed up quickly, slipping into a pair of boxers and his sleep shirt before heading to the computer to write up his report.

When he saw the chair in front of the screens already occupied, he rubbed the towel over his hair once again, paying attention to what Jason was looking up. Bile rose in his throat.

He must have made a noise, as the kid jerked, turning to look at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “It’s not what you think,” Jason sputtered.

“And what exactly do I think this is?” Tim pulled at the ends of the towel around his shoulders. The kid was looking at him, staring and clawing at the arms of the chair, but Tim kept his eyes glued to the screens.

Red Hood. Of course Jason would find out sooner or later. The computers were younger than him and Jason shouldn’t have known the passcodes, but the adult Jason had no problem hacking into a simple report. The adult Jason had skills this teenager could dip into, because this was Jason how he wanted to be. Skilled, happy and loved.

Not who he really was, nor who he’d ever been.

An ideal, Tim thought. His Robin, but not his Jason.

“I thought it was you,” Jason breathed, unable to look him in the eye.

“The guns.” Tim bit his lip. He didn’t want the kid to explain, didn’t want him to know.

The Red Hood. Could he bear it? Could he bear the truth or would this hurt Jason? He was a child, really. Just fourteen years old, just one year before he had died.

Tim’s heart jumped in his throat. Time was running out and he needed to decide, needed to know what was the right thing to do.

Jason pulled his legs up on the chair, hugging them close. “Yes,” he admitted. “The guns. But they’re not yours. Those clothes… They’re to big for you. So I looked it up.”

“How?”

Jason glared at him from the corner of his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I was looking for someone you would hide guns for.”

“I didn’t exactly hide them.”

“You didn’t have to.” He sighed, unfolding and swivelling the chair around. “Were we close?”

Tim took a step when he heard the slight tremor in his voice; another when Jason’s eyes found his, pleading with him to deny it all. To tell him this was just a stupid dream and the files on the screen didn’t already tell him everything.

“You have to stop me, Tim,” Jason breathed, not getting his voice to fully comply. “You can’t let me become this person.”

Tim jerked to life, pulling the kid off the chair and hugging him to his chest. Jason buried his face in his neck, tightly holding on. “No, Jay, no. You’re not him. You’re here now, aren’t you? We won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

Jason’s speech was muffled and warm against his shirt, coming out tiny and meek. “I’m afraid. The way he’s just… coming apart like that, I – I don’t know what to do, he hates me, doesn’t he? Bruce.”

Goddammit, where was that big oaf when his son needed him? Tim wanted to punch his partner. In the face. With a brick or two. He knew how much bricks hurt and this was definitely a two-brick situation.

Jason might be Robin now, but he also was still a kid. Heavily reliant on the two persons he had, Alfred and Bruce. And both of them needed to cope with Jason being back themselves - the Jason they had loved and who loved them in return - too swamped with getting their heads around his sudden appearance to actually take care of the kid. Other than clutching at him and wishing he would never leave.

Tim didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what was right, but he knew he had to act, if only because no one else would.

“We found the person who did this to you,” Tim explained, keeping his arms around the kid. “He told us what happened, why he did it. He also told us that you never asked for this, but that this is what you thought of as the happiest you could be.”

Jason snarled. “Do I look happy to you?”

“Right now? No.” Tim bit his lip, forcing himself to say the next words. “But this evening. And at the mall.” He felt Jason bury his face in his shoulder again, and he struggled with himself. He didn’t want to lose that kid. He liked him. But this wasn’t Jason.

“What did I do?” Jason asked. “Why did he give me this?”

“Because you helped his friend. Because this is what you regret losing.”

“But I lost it.”

“You’ve read the file.”

Jason hummed. “I don’t think… I’m afraid. I don’t want to lose you again, but that person. I don’t think he’s wrong.”

Blinking, Tim pushed the kid away a little to look in his eyes. “You want everything to stay as it is?”

“No. I was talking about him. Me.” Jason nodded to the screens. “Can I still stay?”

“Yes, of course,” Tim replied without thinking.

Giving him a crooked smile, Jason shook his head. “I don’t think so. I remember, you know? I remember a case Bruce and I investigated. It was a serial killer who ended up being killed himself by the sister of one of his victims. Bruce thought she was wrong.”

“But you don’t.”

“No.”

Tim felt his hands shake when he put them on Jason’s shoulders. There was something in the kid’s eyes, something older, more experienced.

“Take me to him. I need to talk to Klarion.”

 

Jason’s arms tightened around his waist when Tim put the kickstand down. The sun was rising at the horizon, already dyeing the ruin in a warm, orange glow. In front of the doors, Teekl bathed in the morning sun where light reflected from the lead glass shards onto his fur. He yawned, keeping an eye on them until Jason got off the bike.

“Are you sure about this?”

Tim pulled his helmet off, cradling it on the tank. “It’s your choice, Jason.”

With a shaking hand, the kid gave him his own helmet to hold on to. A smile grew on his face and he closed his eyes, inhaling the cool air. “Stay,” he told Tim before he bent down to pick up the cat. “Teekl and I have a witchboy to talk to.”

Jason went through the doors, carrying the cat that had gotten him this dream. He didn’t look back, keeping his eyes straight ahead with the determination of Robin. Tim’s Robin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was pretty much the last chapter - there's an epilouge still coming, but then this little story is over. Tell me what you think, here or on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com), I'd love to hear from you <3


	7. Epilogue

Gotham at night was beautiful in her own way. Like a mother he couldn’t help but adore with scars marring her face and rash covering her hands. Sighing, Tim raised the cup and blew on the hot soup in his hands. Beside him, Dick closed the Thermos, his own cup carefully set on the roof. It had been three weeks since he left the Manor.

“Just give him time,” Dick said, pulling his gloves off and taking a sip. He was still on patrol, the police scanner having been a background noise through the whole conversation.

Tim shook his head, gritting his teeth at the thought of Bruce’s reaction. He had been silent and Tim wished he would’ve screamed. It would have been easier if Bruce had screamed at him. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I know, look, Tim–”

– “He’s not the first Batman to fire me.” Bruce had stared at him as if he had killed his son. 

Dick exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. Tim wouldn’t pull his punches, though he knew they were directed at the wrong person.

“He’s not firing you, Tim. He’s just…”

“Angry,” Staring into his soup, Tim finished his brother’s sentence. 

“And rightfully so.” Dick raised his cup and took a sip before shifting his eyes back to Tim. “You could’ve told us, little brother.”

The wind had taken up and he was getting a little envious. Dick had his suit to keep him warm, but Tim had come to the roof of the theatre in his civvies. “And then what? Keep discussing it to no end?” He sighed. There was no regret, not really, but the whole thing gnawed at his heart. “There was no right thing to do. Never was.”

“Yet you did it. The right thing,” Dick smiled; his voice, his whole presence calming and always so confident in his little brother. “You did the right thing, Tim.”

“I put a homicidal maniac back on the streets.”

“You put _Jason_ back on the streets,” Dick said. When he put his hands on his hips, looking over Gotham, Tim followed his gaze. “As for the rest… We’ll see.”

At least Dick was doing okay. The others were coping to various degrees, but Bruce and Alfred had taken Jason’s sudden disappearance hard. The old butler tried to hide it behind his usual stoic mannerism, but in his shoulders was a distinct sag these days.

They were waiting all this time. Waiting for Jason to show up so they would finally know if it had been the right decision. If he even remembered being fourteen again. 

When Tim got back inside, his hands were the only thing still somewhat warm. Quickly, he got the blanket from his couch, throwing it around his shoulders while he went to the kitchen to get some coffee. 

“You still got my guns.”

He jumped, his body moving into a defensive position without thinking, the blanket landing on the tiles. Jason Todd hated him, he had to remind himself. Even if he remembered those few days, this was Jason Todd. The Red Hood.

The window was open, the security systems disabled and Dick was already flying again. Tim eyed his visitor, noting the lack of helmet and guns, the sweet flavour of chai and leather in the air, rather than the sharp smell of cordite. 

“You want them back?”

Not too long ago, he would have questioned even the idea of Jason coming back for a pair of guns, clothes, and some other tools he had stacked in each and every one of his safe houses. This was about more than just getting his gear back. 

“How about you hold onto them for me,” Jason said after a while. “Until I need them again.”

Blinking, Tim connected the dots, but he couldn’t believe the picture they painted. Not quite yet. “So I can talk you out of killing?”

Jason pushed himself off the wall where he’d leaned next to the fridge. A few steps brought him close for Tim to see the cat hair on his shirt. “I won’t stop putting those reptiles down,” he snarled, his voice as dangerous and harsh and hurtful as always. The sound only changing when he closed his eyes. “But I’ll be open for… discussion.”

And that. Changed everything. A smile forced itself onto Tim’s face, laughter surging in his throat. The disbelief was audible when he shook his head at the man who had hated him. “Careful,” he said, cocking his head to see Jason’s eyes as he opened them again. “You might change your mind and stop killing altogether when I’m done with my power point.”

Jason chuckled, finally giving in and giving Tim the same determined look he had back at the church. It was a moment, just a fleeting moment but it was there. 

Deliberately turning his back to Tim, Jason went to the window. He straightened his jacket once before glancing over his shoulder. “Or maybe I’m gonna change yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other than a few scenes I had to cut or change, that’s it; New Alphabet is finished and I might de-age Bruce next. Or write some romance, who knows.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this story and all your lovely comments! I appreciate the hell out of feedback, so tell me here or on [tumblr](http://allumetterouge.tumblr.com) what you think of the story now that it’s completely done. <3
> 
> Also, a big thanks to [ Alex ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexicon/profile) who was pretty much holding my hand through the whole thing <3


End file.
